"Didn't stop you from--"
"Some things are best left unsaid," Snape interrupted in a hard tone, and Harry caught his meaning at once. Don't talk about it, not even here where you are supposedly safe. The walls have ears, literally. Harry glanced up at the portraits and shivered.
"Yes, sir," he whispered.
Snape studied him for a moment. "You'll be in my House too, when this becomes official, so write an answer that is both honest and cunning." A wicked light entered his eyes. "Or lie completely, if you wish. It certainly won't trouble me."
Harry nodded, and chewed the end of his quill, an action that didn't go unnoticed by Snape. "Hungry?"
"No, sir."
Snape snapped off a piece of licorice. "Have that anyway."
Harry didn't much like licorice, especially not the strong tang of the black variety, but he put the piece in his mouth. He didn't want to seem ungrateful, as Draco had accused. "Thank you, sir," he murmured.
"Why are you so nervous?"
Harry didn't know how to explain, so he shrugged.
"Are you still thinking about what James would say?"
"No, sir," Harry lied. He could tell his teacher didn't believe him.
"James loved you," Snape gently asserted. "He would want you to be safe. He would want you to have what you need."
"I feel... disloyal, I guess," Harry whispered, pushing back his hair with a shaking hand. "It's stupid and pointless, I suppose. Draco's right: my father's dead and gone, and you're alive and here, and..." Harry's face went a deadly white as he realized out loud, "The last thing I should be doing is dumping all this on you. It's really good of you to offer to do this for me. I guess you don't want me to thank you, but--" Harry stopped abruptly, then put his forehead straight down on the table, wishing he wasn't such a complete idiot.
"Would you like a Calming Draught? Harry?"
Harry finally sat up again. "Uh, no. I still have to fill all this out." He gestured at his forms. "Who knows what I'd write if I was... er, under the influence. Anyway, I guess I'll just get back to it, sir."
"Consider calling me Severus," Snape suggested, then without waiting for an answer, went back to filling out his own forms.
It took Harry a while to get back to his. Consider calling him Severus? Too presumptuous by half, Harry decided, even if Draco used the name. That was different. Draco had known Snape for simply forever.
He glanced down at the paperwork again. Reason for request.
Harry swallowed his licorice and slowly wrote, My late guardians, Vernon and Petunia Dursley, have for many years seen me only during the summer. During the school year, however, I have had almost daily contact with Professor Snape and have come to know him as a man of strength, integrity, and great magical prowess. I respect his opinions and would value his guidance as I enter the challenging N.E.W.T. years of my education. Additionally, I know from long experience that I can trust him with my life, which is no small matter considering the forces that continue to threaten me.
"There," Harry said, passing his sheet across the small square table they were sharing.
Snape look at Harry, not at the parchment. "You don't need to show me what you wrote."
"I want to."
"Why?"
He'd refused to answer a similar question from Dumbledore, but somehow, it was all right to reply to this one. "You should know what I think of you."
"You went with a Gryffindor answer?" Snape questioned.
"No, it's both..." Harry lightly shrugged. "Cunning isn't only lies, I guess."
"Hmm," Snape merely said as he read the parchment. "I see you've realized what a transition is."
"Caring about what I'm writing helps it come out better," Harry admitted.
"You don't care about your Potions essays?" Snape drawled. "This comes to me as an utterly shocking piece of intelligence." He passed Harry's form back. "Well done."
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Half an hour later, Harry had finished all his questions; Snape was still madly scrawling away. For a while, the boy amused himself glancing around the headmaster's office, but really, he'd seen the place before. He thought of striking up a conversation with the Sorting Hat, but decided it would be better not to distract Snape. Besides, there was no telling what the Hat might decide to say. You would have done well in Slytherin.... With nothing to do, Harry finally resorted to watching Snape, peering at his answers and trying to read them upside down.
"Having fun?" Snape asked, a question which eerily reminded Harry of the time he'd violated Snape's private memories.
"Sorry, sir," he quickly said, and pushed his chair back, away from temptation.
"You might as well see," Snape announced, crooking a finger to beckon him back. "Your interview may go better if you know more about me."
"Oh, getting our stories straight?" Harry quirked his lips a bit.
Snape shrugged. "Come sit beside me."
Harry moved his chair around to the other side, and began to read through the pages his teacher had already filled out. Much of it was basic information, similar to what Harry had supplied, but there was a lot more of it for the adult party to the adoption. Marriages, other children. Education. Employment history. Professional affiliations. Financial status. And on and on and on.
Some of it was interesting. Snape had taken Divination through N.E.W.T. level, but earned a score of Troll on the exam. Even Ron could do better than that. The man wasn't rich by any means, but he had a lot more money than Harry would have expected. He wondered if teachers were paid better than he'd thought, or if Snape's family possessed a modest fortune.
The essay-type questions were the most interesting things on the application, though. Snape's answers were very Slytherin.
How do you feel about your vocation? .... Teaching adolescents is a challenge which has required me to develop keen communication skills and a profound understanding of the teen-aged psyche. These skills will stand me in good stead when it comes to being a father...
Describe your relationship with your own parents.... From an adult perspective, I can see that my father was domineering, possessing a need to control both my mother and myself. Because this led to unfortunate consequences in my own life, I comprehend the inherent danger in being too dictatorial in my own relationships with adolescents....
And most interestingly of all, perhaps:
What would be your expectations for your child? .... I expect Harry to fully develop his own potential, whatever it may be.
"They won't like this answer," Harry pointed out. "I think you're supposed to say that you'll make sure I have the training and education necessary to defeat Voldemort."
"They wouldn't like that answer," Snape returned, his dark eyes tired as he glanced up. It came to Harry then that Snape hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, either. "They'd think of that as Hogwarts' job, or more likely, Albus'. You should keep in mind that Wizard Family Services isn't the Ministry. They won't review this application in a political light. I'm expected to take a broad view of your needs, Harry. That's a father's job."
Harry flushed, wondering yet again what his real father would say to all this. The phrase rolling in his grave came to mind. But then again, his real father was the one who'd thought it was all right to hex someone for no better reason than to alleviate a friend's boredom.
He was fifteen. Everybody's an idiot at fifteen.